Adventure By Another Name

I always loved to write. But for as long as I can remember, I always began without an ending in mind. Pretty shortly, my passages would wind like roads with no destination. The prose would come, the fancy wordplay would evolve but my writing sputtered without a compass.

I sit down today with an ending.

My grandfather passed away about a month ago. His picture hangs on a board on the far side of my wall in the middle of America. Outside my window, an incredibly obese woman named Joanne plays a saxophone. It sounds like a shrill train passing by my room, with sharp, shrieking notes. We exchanged emails about the noise. I don’t have the heart to ask her to stop now. She needs to make a living, and the Wisconsin winter refuses to leave her any clientele.

Richard Guthrie Schaub is here with me. He is listening to the Johannes Brahms that is pulsating through the speakers that I found in the apartment I lease. He is smelling the scented candle I brought in from the living room. Tranquil Spa. The saxophone is trampling my Tranquil Spa. But Grandpadick and I endure.

I still sit here because these words have been nagging at my brain, and pushing my fingers to descend upon a keyboard. I am not sure if it was a sign when I got quite a static shock as my hand reached out for the computer. I am determined to write, so Joanne will simply have to listen to my typing over her frenetic harmony.

If my life was put on a graph, the past eight months would look like the stock market in 1941. Way down, and then war, and then way up. One could say that Richard Guthrie Schaub and I shared that life pattern.

Previously, I was laid off from a public relations agency is Chicago in September of 2008. Now, I have a great job, great people, good money and the experience is wonderful. This is what I take away from the life of Richard Guthrie Schaub.

This is not a biography; I don’t have enough patience to dissect every moment of a man’s life. I will leave that to the authors who like to toil while they write. Richard Guthrie Schaub would not want me to toil.

Richard Guthrie Schaub grew up in the shadow of the University of Notre Dame in South Bend, Indiana. Save the very campus, the town is stark and lifeless. It is boring trying to disguise itself as esteemed. His father was a severe man fond of starch, creases and shaving kits – like most severe people are. Although Richard Guthrie Schaub and his father never saw eye-to-eye, the respect was still palpable in his language anytime I mentioned him.

“ One thing I never quite realized until I was much older was the fact that my old man helped build Notre Dame stadium in the midst of the Great Depression,” said Richard Guthrie Schaub during the last visit I ever had with him shortly after my unemployment kicked in. “ That takes a lot of guts.”

If we broke down the Schaub DNA, scientists would find the guts gene.

Richard Guthrie Schaub was Lt. Richard Guthrie Schaub during World War II in the serene Pacific theater. That takes guts and bravery.

Richard Guthrie Schaub met my grandmother when she was engaged to another guy. She got swayed into accompanying a girlfriend on a double date, and did not care much for my grandfather when she first met him. She fell for him, hard, soon after. That takes guts, bravery and nerve.

Richard Guthrie Schaub had eight children. That takes guts, bravery, nerve and patience.

Richard Guthrie Schaub then moved more than a half dozen of those kids to Puerto Rico from Indiana. That takes guts, bravery, nerve, patience and a touch of insanity.

Richard Guthrie Schaub was very flawed in many ways, like all men who make an impression on this world. He may have enjoyed his vodka a little too much, or flirting a little too strongly. Richard Guthrie Schaub saw so many peaks and valleys of business, he should have been an economic Sherpa. But it was all for the experience, everything was dedicated to the adventure.

That is what Richard Guthrie Schaub means to me. That name does not invoke the image of the Golden Dome or designer suits. It conjures up adventure; it creates the feeling of invincibility and highlights the importance of the experience in our lives.

I have been blessed to have been given that attitude by my father and mother, the daughter of Richard Guthrie Schaub. If something went wrong or wasted my time on an endeavor, or if Joanne paid my block a visit – I could always carry the moments with me.

Richard Guthrie Schaub saw experience like the pieces of the jigsaw puzzle of life, the more pieces – the more fun.

That finally takes me to my first ending.

When Richard Guthrie Schaub was on his last breaths in his last days, he woke up for a moment out of a deep sleep. He looked at my mother and said, barely above a whisper, “It’s been fun, hasn’t it?”

It has. It will be. It is. Take charge of your experiences, it’s simply adventure by another name.

What Sport Means and Doesn't Mean

Flying to Phoenix right now, and still nursing a sports hangover. After my team lost this past weekend, I took time to examine why I feel such an emotional letdown after a team leaves the field with an L. I know it is incredibly natural to feel a bit depressed but when you really take a hard look at the reason, there is no good reason at all.

Watch TV on a Sunday morning and listen to any of the NFL analysts. Really listen. They are talking about catches, blocks, runs and throws. They are not talking about easing a recession, finding a strong health care policy or helping a child in need. It left me a little disillusioned, and questioning the reality of sport and our absurdly strong attachment to the Final Four, Superbowl and World Series (of poker or otherwise.)

I understand it is about achievement, about excellence, about teamwork. I get that. But when a player leaves the court, or the game, is the world better for it? In some extreme cases – yes. (Case in point, when the very white South African Sprinbooks won the rugby world championship behind the frenzied support of Mandela and the black community. He saw sport as a unifier in a time where unity seemed like impossibility.) But mostly, it is an emphatic no. Do football players need $5 million to take a hit? Let’s ask anyone of the 68,000 soldiers deployed in theatres of war. They don’t take hits, they take mortars.

Sport transcends every culture, in every time period. Gladiators of Rome, track stars of Greece and caber-tossers of the highlands all reveled in glory and defeat.

Modern culture is no different – we just create more industries around sports to supplement its craziness.

So I guess I need to drink some water, eat some greasy food and read a newspaper to help get my mind of touchdowns and fumbles. Let the hangover pass like a lazy Sunday afternoon.

Anyone have a reality Advil?

Focus

I saw it on the side of a Gatorade bottle the other day. Lime, if I was not mistaken. Focus.

I was reading lately and the word came up again. I wish I could find the passage, but the end sentiment reiterated how focus is the great difference maker. It separates the daydreamers, the do-ers, the haves and never will be-s. Focus.

But there are so many traps hell bent on capturing your attention and breeding distraction.

1. The Internet. Period.
2. TV
3. Excuses and procrastination- the twin heads of incompetence.
4. Weather - even though I work in a semi-windowless basement, the cold can be great to work in or an even bigger distraction.

As a 25-year-old guy, I find my focus is not a laser, but a prism. I work and feel the best when I am being deflected into a dozen colors (creative, organization, manager, etc.) I honestly do not know if I am the rule for guys my age, or the exception. Either way, I feel focus and desire to be a hard worker do not always go hand in hand. I have said this in previous posts, hard work outweighs talent and charisma every time. And sometimes, focus is the scale.

The Corporate Serengeti

It's no secret that people are inherently selfish animals. The law of survival requires that attitude. I see that sentiment manifest itself especially strong in a work atmosphere where everyone is either a hunter or the hunted. While tough clients and tougher bosses may seem to have you in the cross hairs, there is a caveat to the normal predator-or-prey conflict.

The herd.

The Corporate Serengeti is littered with lions and hyenas. But if your co-workers are a herd, you go from being one water buffalo to 12,000 pounds of pointy horns or kicking hooves. I actually look at my current work situation like that, like I know I have the collective to help me in my quest to survive.

Where's your herd?

Life Approach

I realize that I live my life by two dominant approaches: 1. The Law of Attraction and 2. The Stockdale Paradox.

1.The Law of Attraction states ( as Wikipedia would say):

The Law of Attraction claims to have roots in Quantum Physics. According to proponents of this law, thoughts have an energy which attracts whatever it is the person is thinking of. In order to control this energy to one's advantage, proponents state that people must practice four things:

1. Know exactly what you want.
2. Ask the universe for it.
3. Feel, behave and know as if the object of your desire is on its way.
4. Be open to receive it and let go of (the attachment to) the outcome.

Thinking of what one does not have, they say, manifests itself in not having, while if one abides by these principles, and avoids "negative" thoughts, the universe will manifest a person's desires.

2. The Stockdale Paradox states: You must retain faith that you can prevail to greatness in the end, while retaining the discipline to confront the brutal facts of your current reality. This derives from the lessons learned by Admiral James Stockdale, who was a POW in Vietnam. He tirelessly and doggedly kept the faith that he would be saved - but never put a timeline to it, which kept his morale high. If you have a chance, read more about it.

Have faith - good things are coming.

Be a Shark

When life starts getting in the way, you still have to keep moving.

I am "training" for a triathlon, but events, sickness and laziness creep into my mindset. I know I have to keep moving.

When I work, I need to be constantly innovating and keeping myself engaged in the task at hand. I know I need to keep moving.

For many species of shark, if they stop moving, they die. It has to do with enough oxygenated water moving through their gills. So everyday, strive to be like a shark - and keep moving.

I have to get better about this...

Again, I let too much time go by when I should be blogging.

Here is a simple breakdown of life thus far:

1. I am working hard on my resolutions still - reading a ton of books, triathlon training, new electronics etc.

2. Work is going really well, and feel like I am hitting my stride.

3. Life is fun. As it should be.